


Follow

by yukiscorpio



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9234353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/pseuds/yukiscorpio
Summary: After leaving Altissia, Ignis has to re-evaluate everything.Contains spoilers to the entire game.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers to the entire game.
> 
> I wrote this as one long thing, but it's been split into 3 "chapters" for easier reading here.

1.

People say that if you lose your eyesight, your other senses sharpen to accommodate.

People lie.

If it is quiet and someone walks over, Ignis can tell if it is Noctis or Gladio, their pattern of footsteps having been ingrained into him since many years ago. He recognises Prompto, too, just about. But if there is noise — flowing traffic, running water, rustling trees — then he is lost. Who is where? What is he standing in front of? Is the thing he is tapping with his cane a tree truck, Gladio's leg or the foot of an animal that is about to close its jaw on him?

The world is black. He feels helpless. But he cannot scream.

Noctis has stumbled, so Ignis must catch him, dust him off and send him forward again. That is his duty.

He must not scream.

It will get better. His vision might not return, but he will adapt. He _must_ adapt, fast, there is no time for him to leisure around and take things slowly, even if he is trying to walk when the world is black and he is scared to the core of his soul. Even when he first read the headlines that Insomnia had fallen, he had not been this frightened. This darkness is all around him, and this is personal. But if he just keeps walking, keeps pretending he is fine, one day he _will_ be fine.

At the mine at Cartarnica, after exterminating that stinker of a monster and visiting another royal tomb, they make camp at a spot a bit of distance uphill. Ignis sends Noctis and Gladio off to look for somewhere to bathe, his intention of getting the two to talk things out perfectly plain. But after his earlier outburst — by gods it was cathartic to get things off his chest — his friends do not complain.

"Come on, Gladio."

"Hmm."

Ignis sits in front of the camp fire as Prompto busies around him.

"We've still got the water we brought from the station so I'll make us some tea! If I just put the stand... here, across the fire, then I can put the kettle on top..."

The narration is for Ignis's benefit, of course.

"I think I'll get the pan. We can fry some fish and veg for dinner maybe..."

"A request, Prompto."

"Huh? Sorry am I being really noisy? You must be exhausted."

"No. I hardly did any of the fighting."

"That's the easy part! Walking up and down slippery hills without being able to see where you're going... you're amazing, Iggy."

"It is a matter of needs must. Anyway, I mean to ask if there is any Ebony left?"

"Lemme go check," says Prompto. Ignis hears some rustling, then the sound of their coolbox opening. "It's your lucky day — we have three cans left!"

"My lucky day indeed. Would you please put one into the boiling kettle and let it warm up?"

"Sure thing."

Ignis predicts: Prompto will not adjust the water level before putting in the coffee can and water will spill out from the top and the spout, and the fire will hiss. But instead he hears a small splash of water on rock. The boy must have realised and poured some water away himself. Ignis reminds himself that Prompto is no longer the small child he was when Ignis first saw him. None of them are.

"Are you going to cook for us?"

"I'll try. Chop the veg up, fry some fish? Needs must, right? It won't be anything as tasty as your cooking but—"

"Do you know how to prepare fish?"

"Er. No."

"I would teach you, but I'm afraid it requires more than verbal instructions. Use the steaks instead, they've already been prepared when we took them from the animals. Choose any of the red meat. They are safe to eat even if undercooked."

"OK. I'll give it a go."

There is a lot of noise, Prompto retrieving the utensils he needs, walking here and there around the camp. Ignis can just about see it, partly with his imagination and partly by the way the light of the fire, blood red through his eyelids, is being occasionally eclipsed by Prompto's moving about.

"You can cook, Prompto," says Ignis.

"Depends on what you mean by cooking... back home I ate a lot of salads."

The chubby child Prompto comes to mind. "Your transformation is remarkable."

"Huh?" It takes a few moments for Prompto to realise what Ignis means. "Yeah, the salad diet. Did we meet before? As kids?"

"Not properly. I work-shadowed other Crownsguards as a teen, and you were often there at the gates when we picked Noct up from school."

"Oh man! Everybody knows my dark past!" says Prompto with an embarrassed laugh. "But yeah, I fixed my own meals. Almost never turned on the hob though, so fingers crossed I'm not going to burn everything tonight. And fish is too high level for me."

"Sorry that I'm not able to help with Noct's recent catches. Fortunately Gladio's love for meat means he knows what to do when we take down an animal, at least."

"Yeah, well. Don't apologise, Iggy. I don't think Noct goes fishing for dinner anyway..."

No, he doesn't, at least not now. "It calms him."

Ignis has had a word with Gladio about this. If Noctis wants to spend an hour at a pond, let him. Gladio didn't reply, that time, and just stalked away. Ignis could not follow because he couldn't tell which way his friend went.

That moment, it was so tempting to make a loud comment, something along the lines of "taking advantage of my blindness, Gladio?" but Ignis caught himself before he opened his mouth. What an ugly thing to say. How would that help the situation, how would Noctis feel if he heard it?

"So these steaks are about an inch thick. How long do I cook them for?"

"Put salt and pepper on both sides. Cooking oil on the meat, not in the pan. They won't take long — two minutes on each side. You can wait until the others come back."

"Right. Then I'll prepare the veg first."

The earnestness and determination in Prompto's voice make Ignis smile. "It is rather nice to have a sous chef."

"Haha! You take a break, head chef, I'll try to make something edible."

For a while, Ignis listens to the cracking of the fire and Prompto's humming of the chocobo song. Then Prompto starts another conversation.

"Eurgh, I still reek from that monster. I really hope they find somewhere we can wash."

From what has been described, Ignis reckons it was a malboro that they ran into. "It is a... distinctively foul stench. Have you washed your hands?"

"Of course I have."

A pause.

"Hey, about what—"

"Earlier I—" Ignis starts at the same time, both of them stuttering to a stop and then chuckling awkwardly. "You first, Prompto."

"No no, you go," says Prompto, who adds, mumbling somewhat, "we're probably talking about the same thing anyway."

Yes. That's likely. And the time has come to be frank. Noctis and Gladio are familiar with the workings of the Crownsguard but Prompto needs to be informed.

"About my words earlier," Ignis begins, his chest beginning to tighten. He has to talk about it, put thoughts into words if he is to build up the resolve to act on them, "I will get in touch with Monica and ask her to locate the marshall so that should I need to be replaced, the three of you would be in the very best of hands."

He hears no response at first, then the gentle creak of metal tells him Prompto has sat down in the camp chair to his left.

"You've got it all planned out." Prompto sighs. "I get it. It's the responsible thing to do. But you ain't gonna be replaced, Ignis."

"I'm afraid this is, again, a case of needs must. I would like to see this through to the end," even though he can no longer see, and he dreads what might come at the end, "but in the worst case—"

"Come with us." Prompto's voice softens. "Even if Cor joins us, don't go."

"Prompto."

"We'll all fit in the Regalia. Cor can do the driving. Put him and the big guy at the front, you and me and Noct at the back, it'll be cool!"

Ignis breathes out deeply. He appreciates Prompto's support and wishes it were that simple. Today's trip to the royal tomb has been a test, which he has barely scraped through. Death is not too frightening a thing, but he doesn't want to die where his friends would witness. They are already bearing enough burdens, enough guilt.

"We will wait and find out. If I can adapt more quickly, perhaps. To claim it's not a struggle would be to lie, but I don't intend to give up easily."

Another creak of the chair. "I believe in you, Iggy."

Ah, how to make the boy understand? "I cannot see, Prompto. I cannot feed myself, I smell like a malboro but cannot find a place to wash. On the battlefield I... sense the enemy, but I'm not yet good enough to be of use. Sometimes I can't even tell where you all are." Ignis only means to explain and hasn't expected frustration would enter his voice, but he can't stop it now. "How do I protect my prince if I don't even know where he is?"

No reply. Ignis listens to the fire, the gust of wind that gently beats their tent, the sound of his own breathing.

Then he hears it: the faintest, quietest of sobs.

Damn it. He has upset Prompto. 

He doesn't know how to react, so he pretends not to have heard anything.

A few long moments later, Prompto speaks again, his voice soft but steady. "We need you. Noct needs you," he says, and now a smile enters his tone. "Come on! I don't understand most of the royal stuff and well, you know better than me how Gladio can't be patient even if he tries. But you know Noct so well. You grew up together, you know him both inside and outside of the Citadel, you're like his brother... you _are_ his brother. You can't quit being a brother, it just doesn't work like that."

No, Ignis supposes not.

The jury is still out, but his brains tells him to leave and his heart tells him to stay, even though his heart is already broken by all that has happened and what might be yet to come.

"Brothers," Ignis breathes the word. Cid did say that, just before their doomed departure to Altissia. "But I don't know him nearly as well as you think I do, really."

"Yeah yeah, you say that." Another squeak of the chair. It sounds like Prompto is moving. Ignis hears it too — Noctis and Gladio are on their way back. "I betcha Noct thinks you're practically inside his head half the time."

"Why would I? There is naught inside but carp."

As Prompto laughs, Gladio and Noctis return. They have found a pond literally just around the corner. It's not the Leville, but the water is fresher than the swamp.

"Why are you talking about carp?"

"Carp? No," says Ignis with the innocence of a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar. "Just teaching Prompto a new phrase: _carpe diem_."

"'Seize the day'?"

"The second half of the phrase being 'trust tomorrow e'en as little as you may' — the future may not pan out quite the way you imagine."

He has no way of telling if he is facing Noctis properly, let alone what Noctis's reaction is, but he is certain Noctis knows full well what he is referring to. The others might not have thought of it yet, but Noctis himself is well aware.

"Hmm. I did see a pretty neat fishing spot. Since I don't know what the future will hold, I should go and seize the carp."

Everything aches — his brain, his heart, his soul. The world is black, but Ignis can still laugh.

He knows this won't last.

 

2.

They have lost Prompto.

Noctis wails down the phone. Ignis feels like he has gone insane, telling Noctis to calm down and hope for the best. Even if non-action is the best course of action, even if it is logical and wise and follows every training Ignis has had in his life, it is madness. That is not friendship. That is not love.

They stop at Tenebrae. Noctis goes to look for people from House Fleuret. Ignis cannot use his phone, so he makes Gladio call Prompto every few minutes, hoping their missing friend would pick up.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. This touch screen stuff isn't so good. Let's see if the Crownsguard can get you something with real buttons later."

Normally Ignis would make a joke about how he would not see, but tonight he thinks he should keep his mouth shut in case the only sound that comes out is a scream.

It's too much. Noctis has not reacted that way even when he lost his father and Lunafreya. Ignis knows this because he has been the one to break the bad news to him both times. But if Prompto goes, too, it may be the final straw.

"Iggy."

Ignis does not reply.

"Prompto's a lot tougher than he looks." He feels a pat on his shoulder.

The cane hits something. A rock, perhaps. Ignis tries to avoid it, only to trip over something else and stumbles.

"Iggy—"

"I'm fine." Ignis steadies himself.

Such a small thing. Yet when he cannot see, it feels like he nearly just plunged into his death. This is how he would end. Ignis the worthless, unable to fight for King Regis, helpless as Ardyn went after the Oracle, not there to catch Prompto when he fell, then dead before Noctis could reclaim his throne.

The hand on his shoulder squeezes. "You look pale. Let's go sit down somewhere and wait for Noct."

Gladio neglects to describe their surroundings, but after a short walk they sit down inside what should be one of Aranea's ships, judging by the metal floor beneath Ignis's walking cane and the way sounds echo around them.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"Want me to get you a drink or something?"

"No, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"I'm blind, Gladio, not an invalid!"

Silence.

Ignis Scientia, just what are you doing?

"My apologies."

"No, you're right. I'm hounding you," says Gladio, shifting in his seat. "And while we're here... I've been giving you a hard time. So... yeah, sorry I guess."

"Don't worry about it."

"Just listen alright? I don't like how Noct's dragging his feet, it's true, but my attitude hasn't been great either and that's just made things worse."

What Gladio has been is passive aggressive, or sometimes just plain aggressive, Ignis thinks to himself but doesn't voice it out loud. "It's been rough for everyone."

"Yeah, including you. But you still keep your head."

"Someone has to," says Ignis, Noctis's scream about losing Prompto ringing in his ears. "Please call Prompto again."

He waits as Gladio gives the phone number another go.

"Shit. Says his phone can't be reached."

"That's different from going to voicemail like before. Prompto is likely in enemy hands and has been moved to somewhere secure."

"It means he's alive."

"I hope so." Hope. That's all Ignis has right now. "How is Noct holding up?"

"He looks like he's shoved his best friend off a moving train."

"Maybe it's not so bad that I cannot see right now."

"You really love Noct, don't you."

Yes, he does.

"Don't you?"

A heavy sigh. "If I see Ardyn I swear I'm gonna make him pay."

"I can't see, but do allow me to join you."

"Ehehe," Gladio claps Ignis on the back. "Iggy's back!"

They sit and wait, and Ignis accepts a cup of lukewarm coffee. Then he pretends to have nodded off so that Gladio would stop talking to him. He needs the space, the time to calm the storm in his head.

He hears Noctis again, desperately asking for his help after losing sight of Prompto, but the best he could say was "we can't stop, just hope for the best".

Is he really still good enough? With the railroads the way they are, it is no longer possible for Cor or any of the other Crownsguards to come to aid them. But if he cannot fight then what good is he?

"Hey, there you are."

It's Noctis.

"Shh, he's asleep," Gladio responds.

Everyone lowers their volume.

"He doesn't sleep well these days."

"I noticed. Don't know how to get him to talk about it."

"Same. Have you heard from Prompto?"

"Sorry."

A sigh. "I'm done here. Bumped into Biggs just now, he says they're working on the trains, we can't leave until tomorrow but we can sleep in the cabins."

"Right. You take Iggy with you, I'll go see if I can stock up on some supplies. Iggy?"

Ignis feels a nudge.

"I heard," he says, stretching his arms before reaching for his cane. "I must've dozed off for a bit. Sorry."

Noctis chuckles. "Naps are nice."

"You would know."

"I would."

They make their way, Noctis and Ignis back to the train platform and Gladio to see what he can buy.

"Have you been to Tenebrae before?" Noctis suddenly asks.

"No, but I've studied it a little."

"We're heading back towards the station now, going... northeast. There's a short bridge between where we are and the station."

"A bridge over the gorge?"

"Yup. They've built the station quite close to the cliff too. It seems pretty stupid to me."

"I suppose they must have their reasons," Ignis replies. Noctis sounds more... settled, no, determined since meeting with the staff of House Fleuret. But it's not Ignis's place to ask for the content of the conversation. 

"I guess. We're almost at the bridge now."

"Knowing how deep this gorge goes makes me rather glad that it's not windy."

"You afraid of heights, Ignis?"

"Only afraid of falling. But I can't blade-warp to save myself should I fall."

"Ha."

Without being prompted, Noctis describes their surroundings: the passengers anxious about their future, despair etched on their faces. The style of architecture of the train station, which is neo gothic, Noctis thinks but to be honest he isn't sure he knows what neo gothic is. The uniform worn by the train attendants, utilitarian grey, with black trim, pretty boring. Some of them have hats, some don't.

Ignis tries to paint the scene in his mind. He has always been perceptive, Noctis. Sensitive to others. He is no wordsmith and he stumbles on how to describe everything, but he tries to be Ignis's eyes and the gesture, the thoughtfulness warms Ignis.

Sensitive people feel too much, and they hurt too much. After Lunafreya passed, Ignis doesn't begrudge Noctis for shutting everyone out, but he is glad that Noctis is starting to return to him.

They stop outside the train.

"Noct?"

"We're going to look for another carriage. This one has the sleeper cabin windows facing south."

They walk down the platform until Noctis finds somewhere that is to his satisfaction, with the windows facing the opposite track where another train has stopped.

"It's better than watching Luna's home going up in flames," Noctis mutters.

It is, indeed. "Shall we wait until Gladio returns?"

"I don't mind. Are you tired?" Noctis asks, and Ignis shakes his head. "There's a bench further down."

As they walk, Noctis tells Ignis in a soft voice about what he has learned from House Fleuret, of Luna's struggles, of her brother Ravus's desire to keep her safe at the cost of all else, and his eventual support for her cause.

Ignis doesn't know what to say.

"I need to keep going. I can't let them down. I won't let you all down."

"You have never let us down."

A long pause.

"How're you feeling? You don't look so good."

A hand is resting on his arm. Ignis shirks away. "I am all right."

Maybe there is some truth about other senses sharpening when one loses his vision. Ignis used to freely put his arm across Noctis's shoulders, now he would very much prefer if Noctis did not touch him at all.

"Ignis."

"I wish there was more I could do."

"Don't. You're already doing a lot. You being here—"

"Prompto—"

"We'll find him. Thanks for talking sense into me, if you'd panicked on the phone as well I might've done something stupid like jumped off the train to look for him."

"That would have been stupid, but if you were pushed off the train that's what I would have done."

And that is a stupid thing to say, because now neither of them knows how to continue the conversation. Ignis listens for Noctis's footsteps at the busy station. It's far harder than following a voice, but he will manage.

"Sorry, Ignis."

"What is it?"

"Just... for everything. For me."

"You know full well what'd happened was not your fault."

"I'll get my act together. We've all lost our home, we've all lost people close to us. You guys don't talk about it... I'm the only one wallowing in my misery, and I haven't even asked about you guys," says Noctis. "Have you got in touch with anyone? Have you heard from Mr. Scientia?"

Noctis is referring to Ignis's relative, who worked at the Citadel. "I have tried to get into contact with my uncle, to no avail. Given his place of work..."

A pause. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

"How about your friends?"

"Most of my friends are of the Crownsguard. They were on duty to protect the citizens rather than to engage with the Empire when the Wall fell, so many of them survived." A few have been injured, some more badly than others, but Ignis is certain they have no regrets, just as he has none. Maybe they loathe their helplessness now, but not how or why they got there.

"Girlfriend?"

"Very kind of you to ask. But how would I ever have had the time to date?"

"I was thinking I've never seen you with anyone." Another pause. "Haha, that's kinda my fault, isn't it."

"If you would learn to separate your recyclables, cook a passable meal and sew buttons back on your own shirt..."

"Hey! I do fix my own buttons!"

"After I reminded you a mere five times. Well, you _have_ to do them yourself now."

"Well, I don't _have_ to," says Noctis, copying Ignis's tone, "since you can't see if I'm missing a button."

It's good that they can joke about it. "If hitting you with my cane does not amount to treason I would be striking you on the head right about now."

"You can try."

"Then you would duck and move away, and I have no way of finding out where you are," says Ignis.

Noctis makes a thoughtful "hmm" with his throat. Then a sound that doesn't belong to their environment draws Ignis's attention. A bell. The sort one would find on phone charms and pet collars.

"I got this off Prompto the other day, it's from the chocobo keyring he bought at Wiz's," Noctis explains. "You know the Carbuncle charm I always have in my pocket? I'm hooking the bell onto it."

Ignis can tell where this is going and is about to protest, but the sound of the bell changes, deadening when the charm is presumably placed back inside Noctis's clothes. Noctis jumps on the spot a few times. It makes a metallic sort of noise, faint but just about detectable and most importantly, it is unusual enough to be picked out.

"No worse than if I had keys in my pocket."

"I, ah... this is more discreet and effective than I would have thought."

Ignis can hear him. In this endless darkness, it's not a guiding light but Ignis reaches for it nevertheless, reaches for his prince's kindness and holds on tight.

But... Does he still have a place here?

"Should I remain by your side?"

"What's that all of a sudden?" The question clearly startles Noctis. "I think you're keeping up just fine."

But of course Noctis would say that. Despite having to go slower and even wear a bell, he accommodates and he accepts. He thinks well of people, especially of his friends. Ignis remembers overhearing Noctis say similar words to Prompto: _you're good enough for me_.

"Is that so?"

"Yup. But do you want to stay?"

Ignis feels it again, the war between his brain and his heart.

"In this state, I don't know what there is that I can do for you. But I know that the path in front of you is daunting and you feel alone," Ignis says, hating his own words.

The prophecies. He knows them, Noctis knows them. Is the future set? The _Chosen One_. The _King of Kings_. Or, depending on the ancient text one read, the _Last King_. Does that mean—

"You know me, Iggy."

"I guess I do."

"It's scary."

Noctis talks like he doesn't really mean it, so Ignis replies with the same tone.

"Let me tell you a secret: I can't see a thing and every step is bloody scary."

"Haha..."

"Noct. Even if my presence does nothing except remind you that you are not alone... You are my king. I do wish to follow you."

"Then come with me."

Turns out it is this simple. Noctis says "come with me", so Ignis will go. Even if the future does play out as depicted in the paintings that adorned the walls of the Citadel, if Noctis needs him where he will be going, Ignis will gladly follow.

"I will walk with you till the very end."


	2. Chapter 2

3.

It always takes a few moments, these days, for Ignis to know if he is awake or still in his dreams.

Maybe it is to do with his eyes, that if he doesn't open them, then there is no proof that he is awake. Illogical, of course.

"Hey. Wake up."

He hears Noctis, and his body jolts. Then Gladio speaks, asking what has happened. As Noctis provides his version of events, Ignis pieces together his own version: Ardyn was here, he remembers that voice. He has lost consciousness again, as he did in Altissia, just before Ardyn went after Lady Lunafreya.

Noctis! Where is Noctis?

"You guys check on our drivers."

He is here. Of course he is here. He's the one who woke Ignis up just seconds ago. That wasn't in a dream.

He gets up and lets Gladio guide him. His body is frozen and his shoulder hurts where he has landed on it, but it doesn't matter.

"He saw the Glacian then."

"That's what he said."

Gladio snorts. "Iggy did you just..."

Yes he did. "Did I what?"

They make it down several carriages, then Gladio halts their progress. "This doesn't need two of us. I'll check on Biggs and Wedge. You go back and keep an eye on..."

The words drift off, and Ignis smirks. "I'll _look after_ Noctis. We shouldn't leave him on his own."

An embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, you _watch out_ for him. I'll be back in a bit."

Ignis finds Noctis, stays respectfully silent as Noctis weeps for Lady Lunafreya, and stays cautiously silent when Chancellor Ardyn makes himself known again.

Afterwards, Ignis and Noctis find a carriage quite near the front that still has intact windows, and sit down.

"Immortal," Ignis remarks. "You were wise not to attack him again; it would have been futile."

"You saw."

If Noctis notices his choice of words, he hasn't bothered correcting them so Ignis doesn't bother turning them into a joke.

"I did. And..." he also intruded on a private moment when Noctis grieved for Lady Lunafreya, "I'm sorry."

_It's so hard._

_Guess it was hard for you, too._

_I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you._

"It's all right." Noctis's voice sounds like a long, resigned sigh.

"If it helps: I can't see you."

The unexpected response makes Noctis crack a laugh. Ignis smiles, and Noctis laughs again, but the sound of it becomes muffled, and then choked.

Ignis sits, quiet, his head dipped. He can't stare anyway, but the gesture feels appropriate.

Just a little while later, Noctis draws a breath. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

"How's your shoulder?"

"It's feeling better. If necessary I'll go to the next carriage and make myself an ice pack."

Noctis chuckles. Then silence returns for a few moments. Ignis wonders how they are sitting. Is Noctis resting against the side of the carriage? Or does he have an elbow on the table and his chin in his hand? It's usually one of the two, when Noctis sits.

"I..." Noctis says.

Silence again. Ignis chooses to lean against the side. Maybe he'll look more relaxed that way.

"I was looking forward to marrying her."

"Yes."

"But I wasn't in love with her."

"No. I have seen you becoming attracted to people in the past. You didn't seem to feel that way about Lady Lunafreya."

"Crap. You've watched me?"

"No more than a friend would."

Noctis laughs, a little awkward. Then he continues.

"Luna knew how I felt. I'm sure she did. And I knew it was for politics but I could do far worse than marrying a good friend, right?"

"She also could have done much worse, given Tenebrae's position."

"At least we loved each other. We didn't have to be in love to make each other happy. And I thought it'd make Dad's life easier... it's supposed be part of a peace treaty..."

"It is very mature of you to think this way," says Ignis, who shakes his head at himself. "I'm afraid I have no wisdom to offer, only my ears."

"I... I think I'm okay. I feel better."

Very few words to deal with a consuming grief. No, Ignis doesn't believe that Noctis is feeling better, but he believes that Noctis has said all that he can, for now.

"Talk to me, Iggy."

"Certainly. What would you like to talk about?"

"Nothing to do with the war; we get to that when we're nearer Gralea."

"All rig—"

The phone rings. Noctis answer it and talks to Gladio briefly.

"Gladio says he's gonna help our drivers for a bit."

"He probably wants to drive the train."

"Yeah, I bet."

"Well then, what should we talk about?"

"Actually, you said you saw... you know, me fancying other people."

"It bothers you?" asks Ignis, though he thinks of course it would bother Noctis.

"No, just... did you tell my dad?"

"I reported nothing to your father in that regard," Ignis tells Noctis. "But if he knew, he would not have had objections, I would think."

Noctis breathes out, long and deep. "Then we're not talking about the same thing."

"I believe we are." Ignis is certain about what Noctis is thinking. "Noct, you are human, but your bloodline allows you to command power like no regular human can; you have ancestors who were touched by the gods. In that sense, although you are mortal, you are a... semi-god, if you will."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Gods don't see each other or see humans in the same way humans view each other. The distinction between the sexes is mostly a human concern. Study the records more carefully and you'll find that many of your ancestors are not so different from you."

Ignis wonders what Noct looks like now. Is he relieved? Mortified? Or just embarrassed, his face beet red?

"S-so you mean..."

"If King Regis learned that you had a crush on that young man at your part-time job, it would merely remind him of a lesson he neglected to give you, that would be all."

"Shit, like I'd want another talk!"

Now Ignis can imagine it: his friend is definitely resting his chin in his hand, his mouth half covered by his palm so that his speech becomes a bit mumbled.

"Please mind your language. Anyway, he would not have been horrified. Even without your bloodline as a background, he loved you, that would never have come between you."

"I know. But exactly: the Lucis bloodline."

Ignis considers this. "Ah." The need for children. He hasn't realised that Noctis has thought about it that far, but of course it is of utmost importance to the kingdom that Noctis produces at least one child. It is what all of his ancestors eventually did, whether they wished to or not. It was a duty Noctis and Lady Lunafreya would have had to perform as well.

"Anyway. I'm kinda horrified that you knew about it."

"I'm your advisor, here to support you, not to judge."

"Hmpf." Noctis grumbles a little. "I usually prefer looking at girls anyway. But the girls at my college were... they made me not want to talk to them."

Recalling how popular Noctis seemed to be all through his school years, that is not difficult to understand at all. "I am quite terrible at my job, it appears; this advisor again has no wisdom to offer."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You must have dated."

"I have, but I wasn't very good at it."

"I'm staring at you with a 'I don't believe you' face."

"Stare all you like, but it is the truth."

"Don't lie to your king, Iggy."

"Pulling rank, are we?"

"Looks like I gotta."

"Fine. But my answer is still the same, because it's not a lie."

"All right." There is some shuffling. "How weren't you good at it then?"

"You really would ask me about my failures?"

"You're right, that's mean." Noctis thinks for a moment. "I bet it's not really your fault, though."

It depends on the definition of "fault". Ignis has already mentioned this before — there is no time for romantic ventures in his life. There is only so much "sorry I can't see you today" anyone is willing to tolerate.

And then, for the past two years he... well. Despite knowing that the person who occupies his thoughts does not abhor men at all, Ignis will never act on his feelings. It is not his place.

"I'm heartened that you have such high opinion of me."

"You'd be the perfect boyfriend for lots of people."

"If your assessment is based on the tasks I perform at your service, I would say I am less perfect boyfriend, more average mother."

"Haha..." Noctis laughs, but it is a kind laugh, not a mocking one. "Dedicated, not average."

It is not his place. Ignis firmly believes in this. And this is not consolation prize. He loves his country, he loves his prince. Anything he receives through his service — recognition, praise, gratitude — they are gifts which he treasures, intangible but far more valuable than anything physical. It fulfills him, his soul brimming over with pride and with love.

Even if he still feels empty, somehow.

"Hey, what's with the thoughtful face?"

He hears movement, the buckles on Noctis's glove scratching against the laminate table between them, as if reaching for him. Ignis draws his hands back towards himself.

"Oh, did I walk in on a _special moment_?"

Gladio has returned, and clearly he has only heard part of the conversation. Ignis winces inside his head, his brows drawing into a frown. "Too soon, Gladio."

Noctis says nothing at first, but Ignis imagines that he is glaring and Gladio is scratching on the back of his neck and shrugging in a "oops, my bad" sort of way.

It turns out he is wrong. Noctis doesn't seem annoyed. "If I had to pick between you and Iggy I'd pick Iggy."

"Heh heh, no need to pick; all three of us are with Prompto, remember?"

"He's a lucky guy."

Ignis nudges his glasses habitually. "So, a booking for four in the honeymoon suite at Galdin Quay?"

"Ha. Seriously though, I wouldn't mind a massage after we wrap this all up. You guys in?"

"Count me out," Noctis says. "Can't stand it."

Gladio laughs. "Anyway." Something wrapped in paper lands on the table with a small thud. "Sandwiches. They've got loads of food up at the front. I'm gonna go back and help."

Ignis smiles. "Enjoy driving the train."

"No idea what you're talking about."

Sturdy footsteps take Gladio away again. Ignis sits up, reaches for the food and unwraps one, bringing it close to his nose. "Is this ham?"

"Looks like ham and cheese," Noctis tells him.

"If there is cheese I certainly can't smell it."

"It's probably 'cheese'," Noctis says with enough emphasis that Ignis can hear the quotation marks. "Yuck, why do they put lettuce in stuff?"

"Some people enjoy a bit of salad in their food."

"Salad's not food. Gimme."

It takes Ignis a second to realise Noctis wants to take his sandwich. "What now? Are you giving me your vegetables again?"

"Mm-hmm."

Some things don't change. After Noctis is done reshuffling the contents of their sandwiches, they tuck in.

"What time is it?"

"Hmm, nearly midnight."

They carry on eating, not exchanging a word until they finish their late dinner.

"Ignis?"

"Yes?"

A pause. "Never mind."

"What is it?"

"Just... you seem jumpier these days."

"Do I?" It doesn't surprise Ignis that Noctis has observed the change. "Still adjusting to my condition, I suppose."

"You jump when I touch you."

Sharp eyes. "I literally do not see it coming when people initiate physical contact," says Ignis, and he adds, "rather like when people touch your back."

A soft snort. "Even when I'm expecting it I can't handle it. Back, shoulders, anywhere."

"Are you ticklish, Noct?"

"No? Just the setting, I suppose. Can't relax."

"Shy, then."

"Yeah I guess."

"Interesting tidbit: in more conservative towns and cities where people do not want to expose their skin to strangers, blind people often work as masseurs."

Until the Oracle arrives and heals their sight, at least.

"Huh."

"It's a job one can perform well without vision. Unfortunately I have never had the training."

"Well, you know. Maybe when we go home you can learn it."

When they go home. Noctis hasn't told Gladio that he might not make it back to Galdin Quay, so Ignis won't bring up the problem with making plans for the future, either.

"If you wish. You know that I am at your service."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure."

"That's a relief; I thought you weren't happy with me about something."

"Beg your pardon?"

"It kind of felt like you didn't like it whenever I so much touched your shoulder."

Oh. "I told you I would rather you did not physically guide me."

"You're okay with Gladio or Prompto doing it."

What to say? "It's not the same. I serve you. For things to be turned around this way—"

"Aren't we friends?"

Oh, gods. Let's try humour. "Says the one who pulled rank on me earlier?"

"Aren't we friends, Ignis?"

"You are overthinking."

Noctis falls silent.

That's the wrong thing to say. Even if Ignis wants to drop the topic, words that make Noctis clam up are counterproductive.

"We are friends, Noct."

"Then... don't leave."

Ignis doesn't understand. "Have you already forgotten about our conversation at Tenebrae?"

"No," says Noctis, but he doesn't continue.

This silence burns.

Then, long minutes later, when Ignis is still scrambling for words, Noctis speaks again, his voice a whisper, barely audible above the noise of the train.

"Luna's gone. They've taken Prompto. Gladio hates me. And it feels like you're rejecting me and I don't know why."

Is it a blessing or a curse that Ignis can't see Noctis right now?

"Gladio does not hate you. You know that. We will save Prompto." Ignis reaches across the table before he can help himself, clumsily feeling around until Noctis realises and grasps his hand. "And I'm right here."

"What's going on, Iggy?" The hand squeezes. "Are you hiding something?"

Ignis doesn't reply. He can't lie to his king.

"Did Ardyn say something to you?"

"No."

"Are you in pain? Do your eyes still—"

"No. The wounds have healed. Only my shoulder is sore at the moment."

"Are you hiding bad news from me?"

"No."

"Then what is it? Please."

"Nothing to do with the war or my health." Ignis feels his throat go dry. "Nothing has changed. I'm here for you. I will go with you wherever you need me, as your friend."

"But you won't let me be there for you."

"Sometimes we have to deal with our own issues."

"Even if it's obviously something to do with me?"

"May I ask you to withdraw your question?"

The hand stiffens. "Ignis?"

"Maybe when we're back home. I don't wish to discuss it now."

Something brushes across Ignis's hand. Hair? Then he feels something else. Forehead, and the bridge of the nose. Noctis presses his face down on their joined hands.

"That's not fair," he mutters.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't. It's hard for you. I can tell."

With his other hand, Ignis gives Noctis's hair a gentle ruffle. He doesn't know what else to say, or do.

At some point, exhaustion from the intense day claims them, and Ignis doesn't notice he has fallen asleep until he wakes and tries to open his eyes that see nothing.

"Noct? Gladio?"

"Hmm..." A soft half-response from Noctis. Nothing from Gladio. Is he still at the driver's cab? Then Ignis can't have slept for long.

He tries to sit up, but his body is stiff. His arm is trapped. He tries to figure out what is going on, and realises: he is still holding Noctis's hand. Their arms are entwined in some way on the table, and Noctis is resting his head on them, asleep.

Ignis can't tell if he himself is actually awake.

But for the first time in a long while, he no longer feels empty. The touch grounds him, reconnects him. He is only human, not a god, and maybe he needs not just recognition and gratitude, but the physical things too. It leaves him dissatisfied, but that is better than emptiness.

He lies down on the table, returning to where he was beside Noctis.

This isn't enough, but it'll have to do.

 

4.

Gladio is a deep sleeper. Prompto is not, but he isn't making much of a sound, his breathing shallow but even.

"Out like a light," says Noctis.

"How does he look? Has he been mistreated?"

"Don't think so. A few cuts and bruises. He's just exhausted I think."

"And you, Noct?"

"I'm fine."

They are at a staff dormitory at Zegnautus Keep.

Ignis doesn't know what this place looks like, and doesn't care to ask. They found vending machines earlier which solved the sustenance issue. This room is apparently secure — Noctis has slept here before — so after eating, everyone claims a bed, leaving any discussion for tomorrow.

Physically and emotionally drained, Ignis feels like he has gone through the agony of a thousand deaths. The fact that he is in an actual bed with a mattress and a pillow doesn't register. The fact that he is with his friends again, just barely.

"Ha ha. You can tell it's been a rough day when nobody wants the top bunk."

"Climbing requires effort. Where are you?"

"To your left. Gladio opposite you. Prompto opposite me," Noctis tells him. "Hold out your hand?"

Ignis hesitates but does as he is told, and Noctis takes his hand, in the space between their beds. This is a weakness, Ignis thinks, and Noctis has somehow come to understand that this is what he needs. This has nothing to do with not being able to see and everything to do with the fear of losing his king, failing his country, and... losing Noctis.

"Almost at the Crystal."

"Yeah." A pause. "I can feel it, sort of. Might be because of the ring."

"That's a good sign."

"Probably."

"We will get you there. Then we will go back to the Crown City and I will learn how to give you a massage."

Noctis's fingers twitch. "Will you tell me about the thing that's bothering you then?"

"Perhaps."

"No 'perhaps'."

"Is that the king's order?"

Noctis considers this for a moment. "How about I trade my terrible secret for yours?"

"We aren't children." Ignis frowns. The skin around his left eye pulls and feels tight. "And whatever you have to tell me may not be of equal import."

"It is. Mine's got to be worse. It's scandalous."

"Intriguing."

"See? You wanna know."

A sigh. Ignis isn't going to win. "Fine, we trade when we are back in the Crown City."

"Pretty good incentive to make it home," says Noctis. His hand trembles.

No. They are both shaking.

By the power of the Crystal, the Chosen One shall restore light unto the world.

Ignis was young when Noctis was chosen by the Crystal, but old enough to remember King Regis's shock, followed by denial, and then _grieve_. The king knew what it meant. Ignis didn't, back then, but he understands far too well now.

"How unsightly," Ignis whispers, annoyed at himself. He is meant to be supporting Noctis.

His fingers loosen, but Noctis doesn't let go.

"Not much better here. You should see me now."

"Don't worry, I'm not looking."

"Neither am I." Pause. "Is there enough space over there?"

"What?"

Rustling. Dull rattling of the bell inside Noctis's clothes. Then the side of Ignis's bed dips. He doesn't quite comprehend what is happening. The metal bed frame creaks once. Noctis is lying down. Ignis scoots over to one side. The bed is just a single but they manage to fit.

"Plenty of space."

"Yeah."

They lie side by side, the backs of their hands touching.

"I'm okay. I'm ready for tomorrow."

Noctis is talking to himself. Or he is comforting Ignis. Ignis can't tell. Maybe it's both.

"Just like your father and the Oracle, your soul has been touched by the gods. If the time comes, you will reunite with them in the beyond. You will not be alone."

The words sounded better in Ignis's head. Out loud they seem... sad.

"Is that right?"

"According to the ancient texts. Not to forget you gain the power of your ancestors through the union of souls, and they judge each wearer of the ring. They are still very much there. It stands to reason that you will merely be discarding your shell and joining them."

"Huh..."

"So don't be afraid."

"I'm not."

"All right."

"That's just the backup plan anyway. We'll be going home."

"One should always have a backup plan."

"Learned it from you."

They've run out of things to say.

"Get some rest, Noct. Long day ahead."

"Not sure if I can sleep."

"Of course you can; you're good at sleeping."

"Fine..."

Ignis lies there, asleep, awake, Noctis slumbering beside him. It feels like a dream — a nightmare — and he is trying to rouse himself from it because he knows what is waiting at the end. But he can't, because the world is dark and his world is dark but this is no dream, he cannot wake up and he must let Noctis fulfill the prophecy to bring back the light even if he cannot savour it.

"Iggy. Iggy."

Noctis has turned onto his side, knees bent, just touching Ignis's leg.

"Noct?" Ignis whispers. "Is it morning?"

"Nowhere near. Go to sleep."

How does he even know Ignis is still awake?

"Hmm."

"If it's too much of a squeeze I'll—"

In the darkness he reaches for Noctis, finding Noctis's arm when he is already half out of bed. The words are stuck in Ignis's throat: _don't leave_.

Noctis lies down and, a moment later, shifts closer. Ignis stays very still.

They are holding each other, the next morning, when Ignis wakes up. When he tries to untangle himself, Noctis stirs.

"Hey."

"Good morning."

"And back at you. Slept well?"

He is stiff from sharing the bed and he doesn't know if he got many hours of actual sleep at all, but Ignis feels okay. He feels better than he thought he would.

Gladio and Prompto are raring to go, keen to find the Crystal and hopeful that it'll put an end to the long nights and maybe even to Ardyn. It still hasn't occurred to them what else could happen, Noctis doesn't say anything, and it seems kinder to keep them in the dark, so Ignis doesn't breathe a word about it either. This has to be done whether they liked it or not, there is no need for them to suffer the pain of uncertainty as well.

Fighting as a group is easier, for tactical as well as emotional reasons. Ignis fights as best he can, listening for enemies and tossing magic at them, but it doesn't feel like fighting, not really. It doesn't matter, he tells himself, he is here to get them through this in whatever ways he can. Whether it is by using himself as a decoy or letting Noctis take his spear at just the right moment, he is helping Noctis get closer to the Crystal. He has promised Noctis that he will walk with him till the end.

They move forward speedily. It's going well. Too well, even. Dread brews in Ignis's stomach — Ardyn has yet to show himself. That man most definitely has something planned.

Eventually his fears are answered, first by Lady Lunafreya's brother being used as a puppet, and then an endless horde of daemons blocking their way forward. It is Ardyn's intention to separate Noctis from his friends, and in this tower they have to play by his rules.

Gladio, Prompto and Ignis can fight a way for Noctis to get through, But for all four of them to move forward together? Not possible.

"Noct, you must go on alone," Ignis manages to say when the four of them are close together. He hopes he sounds calculated and calm. "If you can obtain the Crystal's power, we may yet be able to turn the tide. Elsewise, we are all like to perish here."

Gladio and Prompto agree. Ignis can't tell if Noctis can see through his words, that it is really just about getting to the Crystal, not about saving themselves, but it doesn't matter because there is no choice. As Gladio pushes back a slew of smaller daemons and Ignis prepares to use another round of magic, Noctis grasps Ignis's arm.

"Ignis?"

"We'll catch up with you when we can."

"You promised you'll go with me."

Ignis knows that. He would give anything to do it.

"Ardyn loves his games. This may just be another temporary separation," said Ignis, not quite able to even convince himself. "The choice has not been afforded to us. You must go."

Fire tears through their enemies. Gunshots echo in rapid succession.

"Go, Noct. The longer you dwell—"

Ignis hears something. An object is pressed into his palm, its surface smooth and warm. Ignis rubs his thumb over it, trying to figure out what it is. A little bell rings.

The Carbuncle charm?

"Noct..."

"It'll keep you safe."

Noctis has once said that the Carbuncle had saved him from the brink of death when he was little. Right now, where he is going, he needs it far more than Ignis does.

"No."

"Take it."

"Keep it with you," Ignis puts the charm back in Noctis's hand and folds his fingers around it, "so that I can hear when you return."

A pause. "Right."

"Now go. Seize the carp."

Noctis cackles. "You really want those to be your final words to me? Seize the carp?"

"They won't be our last words. We'll meet again."

They form a line, pushing back the daemons so that Noctis can run for the elevator that would take him towards the Crystal.

By the time Ardyn finally loses interest and the daemons stop coming, the three of them are barely standing. Ignis hobbles to his friends, helps them up, and swallows the apology about not being useful enough because he knows they're tired of hearing it.

They find the Crystal, but Noctis is not there.

Ardyn corrects them: Noctis is very much there, simply beyond their reach.

Ignis cannot follow.

Darkness falls, and swallows him whole.


	3. Chapter 3

5.

Ignis doesn't drink, but one night at the Hammerhead, during its conversion into a hunter station, he tells a slightly tipsy Cindy, "I'm glad I cannot see."

It is the truth. Town after town has succumbed to the daemons. The death tolls are now mere statistic, numbers so large they are beyond comprehension. Ignis doesn't think he is missing out, not being able to see the devastation.

Noctis does not return. Ignis takes up the grim task to explain to Gladio and Prompto that the risk has always been there, that the Crystal might take Noctis's life, that Noctis knew all along.

But.

He is still there, somewhere. Every time Ignis calls for his weapons using the power Noctis granted him, it is proved. And through that power he still feels the connection. Noctis is still there.

Ignis refuses to carry his own weapons. Selfish, Cindy calls him, probably narrowing her eyes and peering at him the way he remembers she does. She is half joking and half serious. He tries to explain it to her: if he loses the ability to summon weapons — if Noctis dies — then he doesn't see the point in carrying on, really, for personal as well as logical reasons.

"Wouldn't have thought it the first time we met, but you're a romantic arent'cha," Cindy says in that accent Ignis has never heard from anyone else in all his travels.

"Am I?" Ignis wonders how much she knows, or if she is only joking. "Without the blood of Lucis the world cannot be saved anyway."

In the meanwhile, he fights because it would be quite terrible if the king returns and finds there is no world left for him to save.

"Well, you're not wrong, maybe, but I'd rather go down fightin'."

Ignis thinks that is very admirable. He just doesn't know what or who he would be fighting for, at that point.

Months turn into years. Ignis forgets what his own face looks like, but he doesn't forget his friends'. It's odd, how the brain works.

He learns to cope with his blindness, takes up cooking again, develops the skill to help him memorise the layouts of places he visits, learns the behavioural patterns of common daemons to make staying alive easier.

Although he is one of the so-called "daemon slayers", Ignis does less actual slaying than the hunters and his fellow Crownsguards, his main focus being the research into daemons and the history of the land and its prophecies. Travelling the world, with Talcott acting as his driver and his eyes, they analyse ancient texts and learn to decipher the carvings at the royal tombs, and they begin to uncover the dark years of the Lucis bloodline as well as the legends surrounding the Crystal.

 _Living_ isn't too difficult. He knows where to find shelter, how to hunt for food. When he needs friendship he seeks out Prompto, Gladio. Talcott. Cindy. It happens only seldomly but, when he needs comfort, he takes a lover. Gentle, respectful men who need just the same thing as he does. The first time his friends hear about it, Gladio spends half a day stuttering and readjusting ideas in his head, and Prompto says something along the lines of "dude, if you'd told me then I wouldn't have got mad at you for always talking to Cindy!"

"I didn't think you really mean it," Ignis tells him.

"Uh yeah, tall, good-looking guy with the cool scar! I kinda really did mean it!"

Ignis tips his head to one side.

"...okay actually no I didn't."

Living isn't too difficult. Feeling alive is.

Sometimes Ignis thinks this is what Noctis is like right now. Existing, but not quite alive.

Sometimes he doesn't want to think about Noctis at all.

Sometimes Noctis is all he can think about.

Through his research he eventually works out where Noctis can be found if he passes the Crystal's judgment and returns to this world. But the timing depends entirely on Noctis. Ignis works with Cid to send a boat out to the island, ready for the king's return, whenever that may be.

Then, on a rare night when Ignis, Prompto and Gladio are all in Lestallum together, Lady Lunafreya's dog Umbra appears to them, and they know the time has finally, finally come.

Ignis gets pen and paper, and writes a note for Umbra to take to Noctis:

_Be waiting in Hammerhead._

 

6.

Prompto tugs at Ignis's arm, as if to guide him.

It's not necessary. He hears it, that Carbuncle charm with its little bell rattling dully, a sound he can identify in a sea of sounds, and he feels himself smile even before Noctis says, "hey."

A hand lands heavily on Ignis's shoulder. The gesture should mean a thousand words, but it's not enough. Ten years. No amount of words are enough.

But sitting outside the caravan at Hammerhead, sharing a precious pot of coffee, Ignis doesn't say much, letting Prompto guide their conversation, though he makes sure to add anecdotes whenever he can. There is a timbre to Noctis's laugh that didn't use to be there ten years ago and Ignis rather enjoys hearing it.

Gladio and Prompto are stronger than Ignis. They know, now, that Noctis's return is temporary, but they can still make the most out of this reunion whereas all Ignis can do is prepare himself for the grief all over again.

But it isn't as if he hasn't spent a decade preparing for this day. After a while, it does get easier.

Or so he thinks, until they are at camp just outside the Crown City, and Noctis says that he has made his peace.

"Still... knowing this is it, and seeing you here, now, it's... more than I can take."

And Ignis is undone.

"It's good to hear," he says, because he is the one who says the right things, the sensible things in this band of brothers, but he doesn't think he has quite managed to hold his voice steady, this time.

Insomnia has become, Ignis is informed, "a bit of a mess". Passing through the streets of their home, they reminisce their younger days and also talk about the work that will be required to put things right again, but it's going to be just fine because "Iggy's here, he knows how to do everything."

"Ha," Ignis laughs dryly, nudging his glasses once.

Progress towards the Citadel is painstaking, sometimes because of daemons, other times because they have to find ways around obstructions. Eventually they have to seek shelter in an underground safe room so that they can catch their breath before the final push.

"That noodle bar though. Man, I hope the people who ran it are still alive. They make the best broth!"

"Indeed. It was rather excellent..." says Ignis, his voice drifting off slightly as the gears in his head spin into action. "Hmm..."

Prompto makes an unholy noise. "Oh, oh guys... wait for it..."

"Yes, I can recreate it, I daresay."

"There it is!" Prompto shouts. "You're the best!"

"Come now, no need to get so excited."

"Your dinners though," Noctis muses. "Ever since you started cooking for me I pretty much never missed a meal."

"It was the best compliment I could have received."

"I'm really going to miss your cooking."

Ignis smiles, stands.

"Iggy?"

"Just need some air."

Outside, he turns towards the steps that lead back up to street level. They're close to the Citadel, literally right next to it, he's been told.

He hears the door behind him.

"Sorry."

"Don't be, Noct," he says. "Can we see the Citadel from here?"

"At an angle," Noctis tells Ignis. "You know, it's funny. All those times I made you sneak out of this place with me, and now I'm dragging you back."

"I wouldn't call it 'dragging'. The desire to return home is mutual."

Some shuffling. He feels a hand at his elbow, so he unfolds the arms he has crossed before his chest. He moves so that he is leaning back on a tiled wall, shoulder-to-shoulder with Noctis.

"Hmm. But now that we're back..."

"Yes?"

"I suppose it's gonna be pretty hard for you to find somewhere to get that massage training."

"Pardon?"

"You don't remember? You told me you'd learn it for me once we come back to Insomnia," Noctis says, and when Ignis still shows no sign of recalling, he adds, "on the train to Gralea."

The memory slowly resurfaces. "Oh, goodness. I did say that."

"You've forgotten."

"It was a decade ago."

"Well, I suppose. You've not changed much so I forget it's been a long time."

"What do you look like, now?"

"Pretty much the same. My nose got bigger though," Noctis says, and Ignis laughs. "I'm serious. And I'm rocking the beard and tache look."

Ignis can't even imagine it. "You've not thought to shave before you face your ancestors?"

"Figured I'd take the chance to give my dad a shock."

Ignis cannot help himself but chuckle. "His Majesty is going to think I haven't done my job, to allow you to present yourself looking like you've just got out of bed."

"Sorry to let you know, but by now I also look like I've rolled in the mud."

"I'm so glad I'm blind."

"Haha..." Noctis's arm is against Ignis's, solid and real. Their hands brush. The touch feels normal now, and right. "I guess you've forgotten about other things too."

Ignis has, until this moment. They were going to trade secrets once they are back in the Crown City. Well, here they are, ten years later.

"I do remember," he admits. The choice is there, to pretend to have forgotten, but he doesn't lie to his king. Never has, never will.

"Then, you first?"

"I am in love with my king."

How peculiar. That is far easier than he has expected, the words come so naturally that Ignis wants to smile just saying them.

"Huh."

Not an atypical response from Noctis, really.

"Your turn. Is your secret more scandalous than mine?"

Noctis moves, shifts his weight from one foot to another, leans against Ignis. His little bell makes a noise. Their hands twitch, still back to back, fingers lacing together.

"Nah, don't think I can top that."

Ignis lets out a shuddering breath. "A shame."

"Yeah, isn't it."

Ignis savours the moment, burns it into his memory.

They have to go.

At the Citadel, the flames of Ifrit burn so magnificently Ignis thinks he can see the god. The battle that follows belongs only to Ardyn and Noctis, so the friends are not surprised when they wake up on the floor of the throne room. They race down to the plaza below just as Noctis delivers the final blow to Ardyn's mortal shell.

Then, it is time.

The rain batters, relentless. At the steps leading up to the Citadel, where a father said his final farewell to his son, where he bid the son's friends to remain by his side.

Ignis hopes that King Regis would not think he has performed his task too poorly.

"So this is farewell," Ignis says.

"Yeah. Here we are."

"Give our regards to your family and to Lady Lunafreya."

Because after giving Ardyn his eternal rest, Noctis is simply going to be with those he loves. Ignis wants to remind everyone, and himself, of that.

What Noctis's reaction is, Ignis cannot tell. Perhaps he nods. Maybe he smiles. Ignis wants to urge him to get going, because at this rate he is going to catch a cold.

How odd, to be thinking that.

"Prompto. Gladio. Ignis." A long pause. "I leave it to you. Walk tall... my friends."

They will, just has Noctis has.

Ignis bows.

"Godspeed... and take care. Majesty."

In the rain, Ignis listens to Noctis's footsteps, the deadened sound of the bell still in Noctis's clothes. It's helped him hear Noctis's return, now he will listen to his departure.

The sounds fade, leaving Ignis with memories of laughter, of tears, of touch. Of Noctis's hair tickling him as he slept, warm breath ghosting across the skin of his arm. Of Noctis's hand reaching for his in the dark, through the veil of the night and Ignis's sightlessness, to tell him that he is here. Still here.

After taking down the daemons in front of the Citadel, protecting the new king's ascension, Ignis wills his short blades to vanish, but they remain in his hands.

Noctis isn't here anymore.

 

7.

Ignis goes to the throne room, walks up the steps he has never used before, and climbs onto the rubble to one side. Without sight, it's a difficult task, so he is careful.

A hole had been punched through the wall here, perhaps by a magitek engine. If Ignis waits here, he should soon be able to feel the light and warmth of sunrise.

There is so much to be done. But not even a day has passed since the King's ascension, he feels that it is acceptable, even for him, to take a little time.

Light comes, he senses it, and it stirs something in him. Pride. But he doesn't feel joy.

He hears a rattle. Deadened sound of a little bell. He scowls, and makes his way back down to the floor. What kind of a person would play such a cruel joke?

"Ignis."

No.

Someone takes his hand, and his entire body jolts.

"All jumpy again, huh?"

Ignis breathes hard.

"So, the Draconian lied to me about having to exchange my life for the power of the ring."

"What kind of a joke is this?" His head spins. Ignis tugs his hand free, but the other person has expected this and holds tighter.

"I know right? Not funny." The person takes Ignis's other hand as well. "Iggy. C'mon. It's me."

"Explain to me what is going on."

A sigh. "All right. The Draconian didn't lie. It was Luna."

This dream is getting out of hand. "Lady Lunafreya?"

"Turns out she argued with the gods while I was inside the Crystal. She spent ten years telling them how it's not fair, how I need to come back to clean up, how 'it is in receiving mercy that men offer praise, and in shedding grace that the gods solicit worship'..." the voice imitates the late Oracle's pattern of speech, "...blah blah blah, talked their ears off until she got her way."

Although Ignis hardly knew the Oracle, what he has just heard does fit what he knows about her.

"...Noct?"

Noctis squeezes Ignis's hands. "Yeah. It's me."

"And not even a day since..."

"Carbuncle showed me the way back. Would be crappy to make you wait another ten years."

"Noct..."

"I've got something for you. Stand still," says Noctis, and his hands let go. A flash of panic hits Ignis, but he feels Noctis gently cradling his face instead, pulling slightly so that Ignis has to dip his head.

Noctis rests his forehead against Ignis's, the tips of his hair tickling Ignis's skin.

"Right, it should be like this..." he draws a breath through his lips, and Ignis feels warmth, where they touch. " _Blessed Stars of life and light, deliver us from darkness' blight._ "

Warmth turns into heat. It burns, but it is a comforting feeling. Instinctively Ignis knows what is happening, although he cannot believe that Noctis is here, let alone what has just been done to him.

"Well?" Noctis lets go, and pulls back a bit.

Tentatively, Ignis straightens himself, removes his glasses and tries to open his eyes.

The skin on the left side pulls, but does not hinder. Ignis expects either darkness, or the world being bright white, but it is neither when he blinks his eyes open.

Patches of colour. Shapes, fuzzy around the edges.

"A gift from Luna. It'll take a few days, everything'll be blurry at first, so take it easy."

He sees Noctis. It is as if he is looking through frosted glass, but he sees Noctis.

And he frowns.

"Noct, oh, for the love of god, please shave."

Noctis rubs his chin. "Not digging the rugged look?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Fine, fine." Noctis laughs. "This means it's worked, at least. Good, cos I'm gonna be doing a lot of it from now on." He takes Ignis's hand again. "Let's go."

Comprehension dawns on Ignis. "A deal has been struck?"

"The gods need to solicit praise and worship, somehow," Noctis says. He starts for the door, Ignis's hand in his. "There's so much stuff we gotta get done. Kingly duties to do, sick people to heal, carps to seize, massages to learn. Come with me."

There is a lot to take in, but nothing is done by standing still. Ignis follows Noctis, and says, by reflex, "right behind you."

They pause in their tracks, and Noctis pulls a face. A raised eyebrow, Ignis reckons, squinting a little.

"Behind me?" Noctis asks, lifting their joined hands for emphasis.

Ah. But of course.

"Right beside you, Noct."


End file.
